


It's Got to be Perfect

by WhoStarLocked



Series: FFXV Rarepairs Week 2021 [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Cooking, Cute, Declarations Of Love, Dinner, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Engagement, FFXV Rare Pairs Week, Fluff, Galahd (Final Fantasy XV), Galahdian Culture (Final Fantasy XV), Gift Giving, Happy Ending, Kingsglaive: Final Fantasy XV (2016), Kissing, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mentioned Gladiolus Amicitia, Mentioned Ignis Scientia, Mentioned Noctis Lucis Caelum, Mentioned Pelna Khara, Messing With Drautos, Misunderstandings, Neck Kissing, Necklaces, Nervous Prompto Argentum, Nervousness, Nyx Ulric Needs A Hug, Off-screen smut, Poor Nyx Ulric, Rare Pairings, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Sad Nyx Ulric, Smug Nyx Ulric, Sweet, Tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29340660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoStarLocked/pseuds/WhoStarLocked
Summary: 'It’s one of those evenings, as Prompto watches Nyx hum to himself while he peels onions, that he realises what he has to do.'---Prompto has spent three months making sure he can make today perfect for Nyx. He only hopes that his surprise will take Nyx's mind off of whatever's got him looking so down...
Relationships: Crowe Altius & Libertus Ostium, Crowe Altius & Nyx Ulric, Libertus Ostium & Nyx Ulric, Prompto Argentum & Nyx Ulric, Prompto Argentum/Nyx Ulric
Series: FFXV Rarepairs Week 2021 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2149992
Comments: 9
Kudos: 33
Collections: FFXV Rare Pairs Week 2021





	It's Got to be Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, 
> 
> I chose to write the day three prompt 'cooking for each other' for my absolute favourite FFXV pairing, my OTP, the most precious angels: PromNyx!!!! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

Nyx cooks for Prompto pretty much every day without fail when he’s not deployed. 

Prompto doesn’t mind, because he rarely ever feels like cooking for himself when he gets home from Crownsguard training and, left to his own devices, he’d probably fall back into his very,  _ very  _ bad habit of just not eating at all. Besides, Nyx just enjoys it, and who is Prompto to take that away from him? 

He’s never sure if Nyx is aware of the tiny smile that he gets when he’s in the kitchen, chopping veg, or making a sauce or marinade, but Prompto sees it. He also sees the way tension leaks from Nyx’s frame, how his shoulders drop inches, the way he just relaxes, and starts humming to himself under his breath. 

It’s one of those evenings, as Prompto watches Nyx hum to himself while he peels onions, that he realises what he has to do. 

Ignis’ eyebrows shot into his hair when Prompto asked for his help, but when Prom had explained, he’d happily taken Prompto under his wing. Three long months have passed and under Ignis’ expert tutelage, Prompto’s cooking has come on in leaps and bounds. Now, he’s fairly happy he can pull it off. He’s slightly worried - Nyx seems down lately, and because he’s been taking cooking lessons with Iggy, Prompto hasn’t really had the time to figure out what’s wrong. But he’s hoping that Prom’s plans will at least take Nyx’s mind off of whatever.

He sets off early one Saturday, leaving Nyx sleeping blissfully in their bed. He’ll be gone before Prompto gets back - Prom’s double and triple checked Nyx’s shift times today, and even managed to get Noctis to wrangle a promise that they wouldn’t change and that Nyx wouldn’t be deployed today out of Drautos. Honestly, Prompto should send all his friends a fruit basket or something. 

Ignis’ cooking classes and Noct’s authority and Gladio’s obsession with romance novels are all things that have made today possible, and Prom’s determined it will go exactly to plan. 

Oh gods, it better go to plan. 

It’s a beautiful, bright summer’s day. There’s hardly a cloud in the sky, and the sun is warming on his bare arms as he wanders out into the city. Even this early in the morning, the city is bustling with life, and Prompto easily gets swept up in the crowds. 

His first stop is not too far from his and Nyx’s apartment, but he can’t help his heart beginning to beat faster as he knocks on the peeling paint of the door. 

“Good gods, you’re early N- Oh,” Crowe’s familiar voice greets as she opens the door. She glances around, and realising her friend is absent, her expression shifts. It’s just a bit flintier, a bit more hostile, and Prompto swallows. “Hi Prompto. What’d you do with Nyx?” 

His stomach fluttering with nerves, he offers a weak smile. “H-hi Crowe. Uh, could I talk to you and Libertus?” 

Her eyes narrow, her frown deepening, but she lets him inside without comment. He mutters a thanks and heads inside, blinking rapidly while he waits for his eyes to adjust to the darker apartment. 

“Oh, it’s you. What are you doing here?” 

Truthfully? Libertus Ostium is probably Prom’s least favourite person, ever. 

He just… doesn’t like the guy. That’s not to say he hates him - he doesn’t! But they have pretty much nothing in common, and Libertus is loudmouthed and boisterous and confrontational and everything that Prompto is just  _ not _ . But, he’s Nyx’s best friend and chosen brother, and in the absence of any blood family, he’s the one Prompto has to ask about this. 

If there’s one thing he’s learned in the last four years of being with Nyx it’s that for Galahdians, traditions are everything. This definitely needs Libertus’ approval.

That’s another thing that’s kept Prompto busy these last few months - learning every single detail of how he’s meant to do this.

“Hi, Libertus.” Prom says, and pointedly does not sit down even when Libertus gestures loosely to an armchair. “I’d be very much grateful if you would accompany me to buy some jewellery from the market.” 

Libertus raises one eyebrow, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“For Nyx. I’d like your help picking something out for him.” 

Then, much to Prom’s escalating horror, Libertus begins to frown. 

“Why? It ain’t his birthday for months.” 

“Uh,” Prompto starts, floundering. How did he..? He thought he'd been rather obvious! Or maybe this is Libertus letting him down gently, giving him an out without embarrassing him, maybe… 

Behind Libertus, Crowe facepalms. 

She mutters something unkind into her gloved hands before she lifts her head again, shooting an exasperated look at the back of Libertus’ head. 

“I don’t think that’s what Prom has in mind, idiot.” She says, shuffling further into the room. “Gotta ask though, why now? Nyx said you’ve barely had any time for him lately.” 

Prom’s face heats up, and he glances away from her assessing gaze. “Yeah, I… I haven’t really. I know something’s bothering him, but I’ve been so busy trying to get ready for this, I haven’t found a good time to ask him about it.”

Silence follows his statement, and Prom’s heart does somersaults in his chest. He forces himself to look up, and is mildly surprised to see that Crowe’s gaze has softened, and she gives him a small smile. 

“Uh,  _ hello? _ ” Libertus says, glancing between the two of them. “You gonna tell me what’s going on here?”

Prompto swallows and turns back to Libertus, his stomach swooping.  _ Please don’t be sick, _ he thinks to himself, clasping his hands behind his back tightly so he doesn’t give in to the urge to squeeze the back of his neck. He hates that particular tell of his. 

“I’d like your approval on something for Nyx.” Prompto says, cringing at the way his voice wavers. Libertus is still looking at him, nonplussed, so after a moment’s deliberation, he elaborates. “So I can ask for his hand in marriage.” 

The silence is deafening. 

Sweat starts to form on his hands as he forces himself to keep eye contact with Libertus. The glaive’s expression is unreadable. 

Oh crap! _ Oh crap!  _

_ That means no!  _

Prom swallows hard, trying to quash his nerves. His heart thunders in his chest, and tears prick at his eyes as the silence stretches on and on. The tension is palpable, and Prom swears the room shrinks around him, massively depleting his supply of air.

His whole future with Nyx rides on the decision of a man who doesn’t even like him! Oh gods, oh six, why does he do this to himself?! He could’ve just bought a ring, and asked, for Bahamut’s sake! Nyx wouldn’t even have begrudged Prompto for overlooking his culture, he never has! He’s never forced it onto Prompto,  _ why why why why?! _

Prompto’s spiralling thoughts are quickly cut short when Libertus stands abruptly and in two short steps he has Prompto backed up into his apartment wall. He scowls something fierce, towering over Prompto. Prompto gulps, watching Libertus with a fearful gaze. 

Libertus pokes him hard in the chest and growls. “You better take damn good care of him, or you answer to me!” 

Relief hits him like a freight train, and Prompto all but sags against the wall as he nods.

“I will.”

* * *

It takes Prompto an hour to pick out the perfect pair of silver necklaces. 

So sue him, he wants it to be perfect. 

Besides, the quiet approval he’d seen in both Libertus’ and Crowe’s expressions tell him he’s made a good choice. 

So with a cheery smile and a wave, Prompto heads away from them and goes deeper into the market to seek out all the ingredients he’ll need. Galahdian tradition states that an engagement proposal dinner should use recipes of the proposee’s clan, cooked unaided by the proposer. 

Prompto’s watched Nyx cook the Ulric curry often enough - they both love it - so after Ignis’ helpful tips and lessons, he’s fairly confident he can cook it right. He scours the market, looking for the nicest, leanest cut of garula meat he can find, and once he’s secured that, he goes and picks up all the veg and spices that go into the dish. Then, ingredients gathered, he heads home. 

As he had arranged, Nyx is gone. 

Prompto grins, dumping his purchases in the kitchen before he gets to work on their apartment. 

He scrubs every inch of the place, making sure there’s not a speck of dirt left anywhere before he stops. It’s bordering evening time by the time he’s done, so he gathers the next lot of supplies he’s going to need - he’s purchased these over the course of the last three months, and had them stashed all over the apartment - before he jumps in the shower. 

Towelling his hair, Prompto makes his way into the bedroom and shimmies into a clean pair of sweats and an old t-shirt of Nyx’s and leaves the outfit he’s picked out for tonight on the bed for later. It wouldn’t do to get it dirty while he cooks. 

He goes back into the kitchen, and lays out a tablecloth. It’s white, trimmed with purple embroidery that mimics lighting strikes around the edges. Prompto isn’t sure if it’s traditional or not, but Nyx gets it out for almost every special occasion, so it feels appropriate. Then, he lays out their best dishes, and grabs the cheap but cheerful candelabras he’d bought and sets them out too. When he’s happy with how it all looks, he takes out the small, life-altering black box and sets it directly in the centre of the table, between their plates and the two candles, facing Nyx’s chair. It sort of boggles Prompto that such a nondescript box can contain something so important. 

For the first time, his stomach fills with butterflies, but he makes himself turn away from the table and start the food. It doesn’t take long for him to prep the meat and the veg, then measure out the spices and herbs and make up the sauce. Half of the beauty of this dish is its simplicity. When he’s got the curry and the rice simmering away nicely in their pans, Prompto grabs the other supplies and goes about transforming their apartment.

He sets out all the tiny tealight candles he’s bought in the kitchen, because he daredn’t leave anything burning in the bedroom while they eat, but he’s got some fairy lights for there instead. It’s quite a pain, having to string them up without any help, but he manages eventually, and then after he’s remade the bed, he changes into his nicest outfit. 

Nyx has often told him that this burgundy jumper brings out his eyes, and that these particular jeans make his ass look amazing. He’s completely hopeless with fashion, so he’s more than happy to fall back on Nyx’s opinions. It’s not like he’s trying to impress anyone else, anyway. The rose petal trail cascading from the fresh bedsheets to the bedroom door is probably a little overkill (not to mention awkward as hell if Nyx doesn’t say yes) but it does look stunning, just like Gladio had said it would. 

Prompto feels breathless just looking at it, as he leaves, making sure the door is shut behind him. 

He only hopes Nyx feels the same way. 

The living room, he leaves bare. He’s cleaned it just as thoroughly as the rest of the house, but he wants to surprise Nyx with this, and he knows Nyx will go straight to the living room over anywhere else. 

Heading back to the kitchen, he pours the drinks, lights the candles, and waits. 

* * *

Nyx lets the apartment door fall shut behind him with a loud thud. Shrugging out of his jacket, he hangs it on the peg by the door and heads into the living room, hoping against hope that he’ll be greeted with a happy smile and a kiss. 

But of course, no. Prompto’s not here. 

Again. 

Fighting off a wave of disappointment, Nyx flops down onto the couch bonelessly and takes out his phone, but there’s not even a message from Prom explaining his absence. 

He’s keenly missed Prompto the last few months, and even though everything feels fine when he is here, Nyx can’t help but wonder… 

Because the simple truth is that Prompto is younger than him, and he’s smart, and more than easy on the eyes, and it is inevitable, really, that Prompto would find someone else. It’s not like Nyx is a catch, what with all his baggage, and the unspoken fact that every time he walks out the door could be the last time. Nyx only has himself to blame for getting so attached.

_ At least it’s clean, _ Nyx thinks to himself dismally, actually taking in the apartment for the first time since sitting down. Still, he can’t quite shake off his misery. 

_ Where are you?? _

He sends the text before he can overthink it. It’s not really unreasonable, is it? To want to know where his boyfriend of four years is, especially when he hasn’t seen him all day. Nyx worries at his lip, staring intently at the screen as he waits for a response. 

_ Kweh!  _

Nyx startles when Prompto’s unmistakable text alert goes off in the kitchen. 

“Prom?” He calls out, taking a couple of steps towards the closed door, bewildered. 

“Hi!” Prom’s cheery voice calls back through. “Dinner’s just about ready, if you wanna come through!” 

Huh. 

Nyx usually cooks. 

Frowning and confused and nursing a little bit of hurt, Nyx crosses the rest of the room and opens the door into the kitchen. 

What he sees takes his breath away. 

The room is lit purely by candlelight, hundreds of little tealights strategically placed around the sides to give the whole place a soft glow, and on the table, two more candles, in fancy holders Nyx didn’t even know they owned, are placed symmetrically. 

Nyx’s jaw drops in awe. 

It looks beautiful. 

Prompto himself also looks stunning, as he leans down to put two plates of steaming curry onto the placemats. When he catches his eye, he gives Nyx a million-watt smile. 

Nyx stays rooted to the spot, and gods only know what shows on his face, but Prompto crosses the room to him and presses a small kiss to his lips, cradling his cheek with one hand. The other finds Nyx’s hand, hanging loosely at his side, and wraps around it. 

“Welcome home.” Prompto smiles, then gently tugs at Nyx until he remembers how to function and follows Prom across to the table. 

Where Prompto pulls out the seat for him. 

The hell?!

“What’s all this?” Nyx asks breathlessly, gesturing at the candles, and looking down at the food and back at Prompto. 

Then, he frowns, and he glances back at the plate, because… 

Is that his clan curry? 

Prompto walks around to his own seat and gets settled before clearing his throat lightly. Nyx looks back up to him, wrong-footed and not entirely sure what to do about it. 

“Nyx,” Prompto starts, smiling softly. 

It still makes Nyx’s heart rate pick up, because he’s been with Prom long enough to see the brittleness in that smile, and hear the uncertainty in his voice. 

“We’ve been dating for four years, and I think I can honestly say they’ve been the best four years of my life.” 

Something swoops and settles like a ball of lead in Nyx’s stomach, because he’s heard speeches like this before, and there’s only two ways they end, and given that he’s barely seen Prompto in three months, he doubts very much it will be the  _ nice  _ ending, and -

“You don’t have to do all this, you know.” Nyx whispers, unable to hold Prompto’s gaze as he feels his eyes fill with tears. 

“I wanted to.” Prompto replies, his own voice still unsteady. “Look, I- I know it’s not my culture, but it’s yours, and it’s a big part of who you are. I don’t want to just ignore that, Nyx. I love you the way you are, I don’t want you to change. That’s why I went to all this effort, because I thought it’d mean a lot to you. Well, that and I don’t think your friends would ever let me hear the end of it if I didn’t.” 

Nyx barely registers Prompto's words as his breath hitches, tears spilling over. He risks looking up, and sees Prompto biting his lip nervously. 

“Uh, okay. I uh, I sort of wasn’t expecting you to cry.” Prompto admits, awkwardness plain as day in his tone. “Nyx, look. I love you, okay? And I can’t imagine anyone else ever making me feel the way you do. And I can only really dream that I make you that happy as well. Um, but I realised three months ago, that I wanted -”

“Prom, you don’t have to explain yourself.” Nyx interrupts him, sniffling miserably. “You sure as hell don’t have to go to all these lengths just to try and make me feel better about it.” 

“Huh?” Prom asks, a furrow appearing between his brows as he stares at Nyx. “What do you think I’m trying to explain?” 

“That you’ve been so distant,” Nyx pauses, swallowing back more tears. “Because you found someone else.” 

He gets front row seats to the devastation that overtakes Prompto’s expression. 

“Wha-?! No!” Prompto blurts, shuffling out his chair and darting around the table to Nyx. “That’s not- no!” 

His arms wrap around Nyx’s shoulders tightly, and Nyx cries tears of relief into his chest, and wraps his arms around Prompto in return, even as his confusion builds. Prompto murmurs sweet nothings into his hair until Nyx finally manages to take a proper breath and pull away from him. 

Prompto smiles down at him softly, and brushes the remaining tears off Nyx’s cheek with his thumb. 

“What I was  _ trying  _ to say,” Prompto says, not letting go of Nyx’s face. “Is that three months ago I realised I wanted to always be this happy. So I started researching, and getting ready to do this the right way.” 

Nyx swallows past the lump in his throat, watching Prompto uncertainly as he releases Nyx and moves back towards his own seat. 

“And today I asked Libertus and Crowe to the market with me. And… well. They came with me, so I guess they approve.” 

With that, he nudges something in the centre of the table closer to Nyx. 

“I know I’ve had barely any time to spend with you lately, but it really was for you, in a way, and I only hope that the years we’ll have together will make up for that.” 

Nyx finally drags his gaze away from Prompto and to the thing, and his heart leaps into his throat for entirely different reasons. 

A small, black box sits between them, plain except for the name of the jeweller imprinted in silver in one corner. 

Again, Nyx feels his jaw drop. 

Slowly, he looks back up to Prompto, who’s blushing lightly, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

“Nyx Ulric, would you do me the honour of marrying me?” 

For long moments, all he can do is stare. His mind is buzzing, a million thoughts racing through, but all too fast for Nyx to really understand before they’re gone. He can’t wrap his mind around what’s going on. It’s only when the silence tips over into awkward that Nyx realises he hasn’t said anything, but even so, he can’t make his mouth cooperate. 

Across from him, Prompto shifts his weight uneasily, his gaze dropping as he scratches at the back of his neck. 

“If you don’t want to, I understa-”

“No!” Nyx blurts out, and then instantly feels his face heat up as he berates himself mentally. "I mean, not 'no', I mean -" 

_ Get it together, Ulric! _ He thinks to himself, and his face must be scarlet with how hot it feels, as he pinches his brow, eyes screwed shut. Man, he's so done with his own stupidity. 

"I mean," he starts, not taking his hand away from his face, and he doesn't have any embarrassment left to be mortified at the way his voice is a squeak. "I mean, yes, I do. I will. Marry you, I mean."

When he dares to actually open his eyes and look up, Prom’s smiling madly, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears, and the box on the table is open. 

Nyx can’t help but let out a strangled noise when he sees the necklaces, because they’re simple and elegant and perfect and probably exactly what he’d have picked for himself, and all of a sudden he’s confronted with the knowledge that Prom knows him  _ so well. _

“Shit, Prom,” He laughs wetly, wiping tears away from his own eyes, again, (and gods he’s never going to hear the end of how he cried at his proposal when he tells Lib and Crowe about this) then smiles back at Prompto. He’s infinitely grateful that Prom had had the foresight to sit him down, or else he’d probably have fallen on his ass by now. “They’re perfect!”

Prompto’s smile seems to just get wider at that, and he nudges the box towards Nyx again. Letting out another breathless chuckle, Nyx takes the hint and picks it up, before carefully taking out one of the necklaces. 

“You kinda have to come here, sunshine.” He says, and wow, his face hurts from how much he’s smiling. He fiddles the clasp open while Prom walks around the table and then unceremoniously plops down on Nyx lap like he belongs there. 

Nyx supposes he does, now. Officially and everything. 

Carefully, he wraps the necklace around Prom’s neck and closes it, before letting it drop onto his skin.

Prompto flinches slightly when the cold metal hits his skin, and Nyx can’t refrain from dropping a kiss onto the back of his neck in response. And if it lingers, well… no one can say shit about how he kisses his fiancé. 

“How’s it look?” Prom asks, turning his face to one side. 

Nyx hides a smile in the crook of his neck, eyes closed, and lets his lips brush over soft skin as he replies. “Fucking beautiful.” 

“Yeah?” Prompto grins, then shuffles until he’s managed to face Nyx, and somehow, he’s picked up the other necklace, too. “Your turn.” 

He’ll swear up and down, when retelling this story, that his heart did a little loop-de-loop, or something, in his chest when Prompto oh so casually returns the favour, and lifts Nyx’s braids up until the necklace settles against his skin. 

Prom lets his arms drop onto his shoulders, and Nyx smiles indulgently at him, before leaning up to press a languid kiss to his lips. His hands find a home on Prom’s hips, steadying him as he leans back down to meet Nyx’s mouth with his own.

Prompto kisses back fervently, moaning slightly when they part for breath. He rests his forehead against Nyx’s own, their breaths mingling. 

“Please tell me it’s not actually a requirement that we eat the food now.” 

Nyx snorts, and gives in to his laughter. 

Prom grins with him, but still watches Nyx intently as his quiet snickers taper off. 

“It is a requirement to eat the food,” Nyx says, adjusting his grip on Prom’s hips slightly. “But it doesn’t have to be now. We can just reheat it.” 

“ _ Thank the gods _ .” Prom replies, and the reverence in his tone takes Nyx almost by surprise. But then he’s kissing Nyx, and Nyx loses all capability to focus on things like tone and words and pretty much anything that isn’t how amazing it feels to have Prompto back in his arms. 

“It’s a shame,” He pants, between kisses that are getting hotter and more desperate with every passing second. “To blow out all these candles.” 

Prom groans lightly and nips at Nyx’s lips with his teeth. “I can live with it.” 

“It was beautiful while it lasted,” Nyx smirks, letting Prompto tilt his head back to leave a trail of kisses (and probably hickeys, come tomorrow) down the side of his neck. 

Prompto grins into the hollow of his throat, and sucks a mark there before scrambling back off his lap. He blows out the candles, in quick succession, then he’s tugging at Nyx until he stands. 

“If you thought this was beautiful, wait ‘til you see our bedroom.” 

* * *

The bedroom, as it turns out, is even more beautiful than Nyx can comprehend, and he seconds Prom’s plan to send all his friends fruit baskets, when they’re done wrecking it.

* * *

“...and then we ate the curry, and for someone who couldn’t cut up an onion without massacring the onion and himself three months ago, it was pretty damn good!” 

Nyx grins, and links his fingers through Prom’s as he finishes telling Lib, and Crowe, and Pelna, and basically every glaive in the vicinity who’ll listen about his fantastically beautiful proposal. Well, the sanitised version.

So maybe he’s preening a little. 

But he should get to, he reckons. He’s happy. Sue him. 

“Chocobo _ shit _ !” Crowe snorts, folding her arms over her chest as she looks between the pair of them with an arched eyebrow. “No way you held out ‘til after food, Nyx Ulric.” 

“Ulric, what the hell is  _ he  _ doing in my training hall?” Drautos yells before Nyx can retort, glaring at them from the doorway to his office.

He heads towards them, scowling something fierce, and Nyx smiles - because he can’t wipe this smile off his face no matter hard he tries - even as he gets indignant at the way their captain sneers as he looks over at his fiancé. 

And then Prompto, who clearly has just as few survival instincts as he does, tilts his head on one side and asks in an oh-so-innocent voice:

“Which Ulric?” 

Because that’s the other thing about Galahdian engagements. They change their names then, not at the wedding. 

Nyx loves this tradition. 

He’ll neither confirm nor deny that he loves this tradition purely because of the strange plum colour Drautos’ face goes as he tries to figure out what the hell to say to that, before he just gives up entirely, throws his hands up in the air and walks away to the sound of uproarious laughter. 

“I fucking love you, Prompto Ulric.” Nyx says, cackling at his captain’s expense. 

“Love you too, my groom-to-be.” Prom grins right back at him. 

Nyx pulls him into a kiss, and flips a bird without pulling away when the other glaives wolf-whistle them. 

_This, this right here, is perfection_ , Nyx thinks to himself, eyes closed in bliss as Prompto kisses him back thoroughly. _And I’m never letting go._

**Author's Note:**

> So just to be clear, in Galahdian culture (or my take on it, at least) necklaces are given instead of rings.


End file.
